


About Time

by Fablegate



Category: Transformers, Transformers MTMTE - Fandom
Genre: M/M, good ol' fashion fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:11:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fablegate/pseuds/Fablegate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are finally said. Whirl is very happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Time

Cygate fluff help

 

Oh where to start. 

Well. For starters, Tailgate was exhausted! 

Fighting for peace and justice and ensuring the safety of another planet is always good. At least, Tailgate thinks he would do it again. He just wished it wasn’t so exhausting. Not only had he spent the last past cycles fighting without so much as a decent recharge, but, even after the fight had been won, Tailgate had to help mech after mech back to the Lost Light and quickly into the medbay. Thank Primus for his new strength. 

He sat in the med bay waiting along with almost every other crew member. The medics really had their hands full tonight. And Tailgate had seen more than a few of the emergency care slabs and their patients. Safe to say he was more than grateful that being as small as he was made him a harder target to hit under blaster fire. 

He wished he could say the same for other bots. 

Thankfully, most of the bots that Tailgate knew personally weren’t in emergency care.

Ratchet had insisted that Cyclonus would be fine. But when you watch your friend take the brunt of a canon blast to the chassis you can’t help but worry juuuuuust a little bit. 

“Tailgate, relax!” It was Rewind who sat next to him. He was waiting for Chromedome to get his arm fixed up. “An old warrior like Cyclonus has survived far worse, I’m sure.” 

“Oh, I know that! It’s just-“ Tailgate cut himself off before he could finish that thought aloud. If they were alone, Tailgate wouldn’t have minded as much saying it aloud. But, he didn’t think he could bare it if anyone else in the room heard. 

Rewind simply nodded in understanding. He already knew for some time and Tailgate was more than grateful for his discretion in the matter. That said, Tailgate had no doubt Chromedome knew as well. 

“It’s just close call after close call.” Tailgate said instead. Goodness how many times has Cyclonus taken a blow for him? How many times has Tailgate had to sit and worry and pray to Primus that he made it through. 

Rewind just kept nodding as he put a comforting servo on Tailgates shoulder. “I know, Tailgate. It’s never easy.” There was a waver in his voice that made Tailgate feel even worse. Primus, who was he to complain when Rewind had gone through far worse.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t to be-“ Tailgate started but Rewind only held up a reassuring hand to stop him.

“It’s okay.” Was all he said before looking up past Tailgate and his visor seemed to brighten. “Besides, someone is expecting us.” He gestured to First Aid who was beckoning them over. 

Chromedome would be alright, just a minor patch job for the time being. He would need a new paint once the new metal patch had meshed properly with the old metal. 

Rewind nodded and thanked First Aid with no absence of relief. Tailgate felt a sinking feeling in his tank when First Aid turned to him. 

The news was, well, not that great. 

Cyclonus would live, first off. Thank Primus for that. 

That said, he was still in critical condition and would be stuck on a medical berth for a couple days. The blast had gone right through his chassis and much too close to his spark chamber. He was stable for now. But it would be some time before he was fully functional. 

But he was alive. Good. That was good. 

So why was he still so fragging worried?! 

Tailgate said his thanks and asked if he could be with Cyclonus. The brow of First Aid’s helm creased. The answer was no. He would have to wait like everyone else. First Aid left him before any argument could be made. 

So that was that. More waiting. 

And that’s what he did. Wait. Just sit in an uncomfortable chair and fragging wait. Rewind and Chromedome were kind enough to wait with him. Tailgate wasn’t sure if Rewind ever told Chromedome, but he had no doubt that the mnemosurgeon knew what was going on. Honestly it wouldn’t surprise Tailgate if the entire crew knew. 

Well, except for Cyclonus. 

“It may not be our business Tailgate, but,” Rewind exchanged a glance with Chromedome. “We think you should tell him.”

Tailgate was no less than shocked. “What?! Are you crazy I could never do that!”

“Why not?” Chromedome asked. Both mechs were looking at Tailgate now for explanation. 

At that Tailgate got shy. “He…he would never reciprocate.”  

“You don’t know that-“ Rewind started but Tailgate cut him off.

“Oh, yes I do!” Tailgate said, careful not to yell so as to avoid anyone else listening in. “I’m a naïve coward and everyone knows it. My lies nearly got you and Cyclonus blown to scrap. I nearly get Cyclonus killed again thinking that some mech actually wanted to-” Tailgate stopped himself there. Both the mechs knew that he had been tricked by Getaway in order to get to Megatron, but Tailgate had yet to tell Rewind the extent of how Tailgate was tricked. 

Neither of them questioned Tailgate about Getaway. They honestly didn’t have to. That didn’t make it any harder for Tailgate to look either of them in the optics. 

“You’ve grown stronger since boarding the Lost Light.” Rewind countered. 

Chromedome nodded in agreement. “You helped stop Tyrest on Luna I, not to mention throwing the Rodpod on Sunder.” 

“And not just in strength.” Rewind went on. “Since we first met you’ve become honest and very brave. Cyclonus surely must see that.” 

A part of Tailgate wanted to believe that, truly. But, surely, Cyclonus would do good with someone better than him. 

The conversation didn’t seem to go anywhere else from there so the three of them sat in silence. Eventually Chromedome and Rewind would get up to recharge back in their habsuite and suggested Tailgate do the same. Tailgate thanked them for their kindness as they left. 

“Think about what we talked about, okay?” Rewind asked. “Believe me, it’s better to let them know before…” Another sentence that did not need to be finished as all three knew well where it ended. 

“When he wakes up,” Chromedome said as they stood in the doorway. “Tell Cyclonus I said thanks for taking that shot for me.”

Tailgate said that he will, but also for Chromedome to tell Cyclonus himself. He waved them goodbye as they left. 

Now it was back to waiting. 

The silent edition.

Tailgate waited and waited. Not looking up from his folded servos in his lap. Mech after mech, the medbay grew more and more empty as mechs who weren’t in critical condition were treated and sent to their habsuite with some midgrade. Tailgate was given some while he waited. Though he barely drank any of it. He had only gotten through half of it when the waiting room was completely empty. 

He didn’t bother checking his chronometer, he knew it was late when First Aid came out and gave him the okay. 

 Cyclonus was still deep in recharge when Tailgate walked up to his medical bed. He was placed all the way down in the corner. Which in a way was good. Tailgate knew that a corner to Cyclonus meant privacy. And privacy was preferred by the old bot. 

He had tubes of energon, and other fluids Tailgate couldn’t name, attached to him along with a slab of bare metal on his chest. It looked incredibly out of place but it was to be expected. Tailgate looked on the bright side in that Cyclonus could just get it painted later.

Later.

Thank Primus there was even going to be a later. 

First Aid brought him a chair with Ratchet grumbling in the background (“I swear if I find that minibot sleeping in here tomorrow and not in his own berth…”). 

“Let me know if you need anything.” Was all First Aid said before leaving Tailgate to his peace.

Tailgate just sat there in that corner and watched as his friend slept. He could hear Cyclonus’ gentle exvent as he slumbered and dared the thought of placing a hand on the mech’s chest if just to feel the gentle rumble of his breathing. But he didn’t dare go through with it, in case he did something horribly wrong and somehow damage the new patch of chassis and manage to kill Cyclonus in his sleepohPrimusdon’teventhinkaboutit.

Instead he just sat on his hands and watched. It seemed to be the only good he could do at the moment. 

Oh. Wait.

An idea struck him. A faint memory of last time’s incident was brought to the front of his mind but he elected to ignore it. He doubt it would happen again. 

He hopped out of his chair and went to First Aid (because Ratchet scared the scrap out of him this time of night.) and asked for a small flask or vile. Anything with a lid would do. First Aid caught pretty quickly onto what Tailgate was looking for and had just the thing. Once Tailgate had the little vile with a screw on lid, Tailgate went back to the sleeping Cyclonus with his innermost energon and placed it beside the bed. He was careful to just put it on his side rather than reach over the older mech like last time. 

And then it was just sitting and waiting again. At least this time his chair was much more comfortable if just a tad bit big for a bot his size. Anyways, what mattered most was that Cyclonus was alive and soon he would wake up. And maybe, just maybe, Tailgate would finally bulk up the courage to tell him. 

This felt oddly familiar. How many times would they do this? Either one or the other coming too close to death while the other waited for them to wake up. This was like some terrible comedy some half-wit thought would be good idea to write. Tailgate simply hoped that the story would end happily for everybody. He couldn’t bare the thought of any more mechs dying. 

Cyclonus would say something like “Mechs will die whether you can bare it or not.” Tailgate had come to realize that wasn’t Cyclonus trying to be cruel or even cold. It was just a truth that Cyclonus felt needed to be spoken. 

Cyclonus, for all that he was, was an honest bot. At least in his own way, if that made any sense. He gave an air of indifference and when he said he didn’t care he usually meant it. That said, Tailgate has seen that the warrior cares for other mechs more than he lets on. He’s found that it’s in the little things. A few big instances, but for the most part it’s been the little things. 

Going to Swerve’s bar and sharing the occasional drink with other bots that seemed to tolerate his company. Teaching Tailgate to sing as well as actually singing in front of others (with the encouragement of engex now and again). Spending time at Rewind’s to watch movies. Not killing Whirl.

…yet.

 Though, that may be more of a big thing(considering) but Tailgate felt he should add it to the small things list anyway. 

Cyclonus also wore the horn that Tailgate made to replace his broken one. Tailgate doesn’t think he’s ever seen the mech take it off. In fact, when Tailgate watches him fight he noticed that Cyclonus tended to guard that side of him more. Which was odd.

He also sang to Tailgate when he was dying. And left his innermost energon by Tailgate’s bedside after the Getaway incident. Their reunion after that was….less spectacular than Tailgate would have liked. After all, he had woken up with the his last memory of Cyclonus collapsing to  the ground leaking energon from blaster wounds. 

The memory made him shudder. Tailgate decided to keep thinking about the little things. Though, he realized, the more he thought the more he realized a lot of those little things involved Tailgate. 

Maybe Rewind was right. With the crazy life they currently lead on the Lost Light, maybe it was best to tell Cyclonus before the chance was lost for good. 

Alright then. Tailgate decided to himself. I’ll tell him as soon a he wakes up.

That time came a lot later than he would have hoped. At some point in the night, Tailgate had nodded off and ended up with his faceplate flat on the edge of the berth. Yes. Very tactful Tailgate. 

He reset his optic several times before remembering where he was and tried to raise his helm off the berth. Only to have a foreign weight on it. He recognized the claw digits that gently caressed the back of his head and relaxed immediately. A thumb paused at the tip above his visor, questioningly. Tailgate answered by leaning into the touch. It felt good. 

That said. He was still embarrassed that he couldn’t stay awake. 

“How long was I asleep.” He mumbled, not getting up quite yet, enjoying the warmth of Cyclonus’ servo on his helm.

“Not long,” Cyclonus replied in a tired grumble. “Why aren’t you in the habsuite?” 

Tailgate gave a dry exvent. “As if I could sleep in there by myself. And I’m starting to think you don’t seem to mind.” The servo paused hesitantly. It parted barely a few inches to let him get up. But when Tailgate didn’t move, making it clear he wasn’t going to, it returned almost gladly to where it rested and continued to massage a small pattern on his helm. 

If Tailgate had a headache, this would have felt even better. But he was actually feeling much improved compared to before. He must have needed a recharge more than he thought.

And now that he was thinking, memories of the promise he made to himself before falling into recharge came back to him like a slap of a forge hammer (pray to Primus he never actually had to know what that felt like).

“I left you a gift.” Tailgate said, breaking the peaceful silence.

“I saw it.” Cyclonus remarked.

“It’s tradition.” 

“I know.” 

There was a small stretch of silence where Tailgate couldn’t help but feel he did something stupid again. To his surprise Cyclonus broke the silence.

“Thank you.”

At that Tailgate felt happy and he let out a small EM field to show it. His own field was met by Cyclonus’ that as surprisingly warm and welcoming. Usually Cyclonus would keep his field to himself and on rare occasion would Cyclonus would emit it to others. But he seemed to do it more often when Tailgate around.

Maybe now was the time.

Tailgate reached up and took the larger mech’s servo in his own. Primus his servo was practically dwarfed by Cyclonus’. He felt a twinge in Cyclonus’ field as he sat up. It was almost as if he was upset at loosing the touch of Tailgate’s helm but he soon seemed content with it’s substitute that was both of Tailgate’s servos holding his. It was now Cyclonus’ turn not to move away as Tailgate inspected the servo in front of him. Well, we already cleared that it was big(get that squared away). It was also strong and firm. Very sharp, especially with all those claws, goodness! Despite their intimidating look, Tailgate couldn’t help fantasize himself holding the servo a lot more.

Okay then. No more dawdling. 

“Cyclonu-“

“Tailgate.” 

They both paused in surprise as they had spoken at once. Both their fields suddenly grew a little shy.

“You first.” Cyclonus said.

“N-no no no! You first!” Tailgate insisted.

“You spoke first.”

“You spoke second!” 

“That doesn’t even-“ Cyclonus raised his helm to look at Tailgate. At the minibot’s insistent look, Cyconus sighed and lowered his head opting to looking back at the ceiling. 

There was a moment of silence where Cyclonus put together his words in his head. Tailgate’s small servos had yet to let go of his so he gave them a gentle squeeze which Tailgate returned in kind.

“It seems we ‘ve been following a reoccurring theme.” He finally said.

“Mh.” Tailgate looked down at the servo in his hand. It was warm and relaxed, it wasn’t what Tailgate was used to. 

Cyclonus raised his helm to look at Tailgate. “I think we’ve begun to annoy Ratchet. More so than usual.” 

Tailgate laughed at that. 

Wait.

Did Cyclonus just…?

Tailgate met Cyclonus’ gaze with surprise. “Did you just try to be funny?!”

Cyclonus arched the brow of his helm. “Is that strange?”

Tailgate quickly shook his helm. “No! No! I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Hm.” Cyclonus nodded, squeezing Tailgate’s servo just a little bit tighter than what was comfortable. But no more than that. Tailgate couldn’t help but notice a slight withdraw in the older mech’s field. At that, Tailgate felt his own field shrink as well. If Cyclonus noticed this, which he no doubt did, he made no movement to show it. 

Again, silence fell between them. Tailgate wasn’t sure how he felt about that so he went back to looking at the older mech’s servo. He was sure to be gentle as he inspected each claw. 

Gentle.

Tailagte never thought that was something he would have to learn. 

“I was worried, y’know.” Tailgate said, not looking up. Cyclonus didn’t respond so he kept talking. “This hasn’t been the first time, either. Like you said, we’ve done this way too many times where one of us is on a slab while the other is in a chair twiddling their thumbs.” He tightened  his grip on the mech’s servo. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry.” He felt fingers twitch in his servos. “For a moment, I thought that you might be-that I would never get the chance to tell you…..that, um….” Tailgate stared at the floor. He had thought the whole speech in his head and here he was forgetting the whole thing! “Great, now I don’t even know how to say it.” 

“Then don’t.” 

Tailgate felt his neck joint pop as his head snapped up to look at Cyclonus. A pang off hurt lit in his chest when he heard that. But the fire quickly died as he met the other mech’s gaze.

Soft. 

That was the only way Tailgate could describe it. The one word he never thought to use for Cyclonus and yet it proved to be the only word to perfectly describe the expression that was made just for him. 

Soft. 

Cyclonus opened his intake to speak but stopped and thought. Tailgate, against every spark of his being, waited patiently for Cyclonus. 

Finally he spoke. “Important things are felt, not said.” He began. “But, I…feel inclined to say that you deserve better-” 

“I don’t want better!” Tailgate stood up, clenching the large servo to his chassis, perhaps almost too tightly. Cyclonus actually stared wide-eyed at him. “I want…I..” Oh Primus, now was not the time to be getting shy again-just out with it! 

“I want you.” 

Tailgate had meant to say it louder, but his whole frame felt weak with his own anxiety that the words barely came out a whisper. He himself barely heard it and it impossible to tell if Cyclonus heard it. Though, to be fair, Tailgate wasn’t looking at the older mech as he made himself stare only at the servo he still held-clung to. He half expected Cyclonus to not move ever gain. That he just fell asleep from exhaustion and forgotten this entire conversation.

Of course then Cyclonus’s hands began to move so away went that hopeful fantasy. 

Tailgate still didn’t look at him as he let the large servo leave his grasp. Though, it didn’t leave him as it reached and cupped his cheek and gently pulled him closer to the berth. The hand brought him up. Tailgate caught a glimpse of mended but strong chassis, then a shoulder, then-

“Tailgate.” Cyclonus said. 

“Hm?” Tailgate was too caught up with the warm servo on his cheek and the clear view he had of the cables in Cyclonus’s neck. 

“I can’t…” Cyclonus sighed. “I’m unable to sit up.” 

“Oh.”

“Could you…could you lean forward, please?”

“Oh! Yeah, let me just-” The birth was a tad bit tall, and Tailgate had to lean up on his servos while Cyclonus’s own servo guided him past the view of his neck to…to.

Oh. 

Cyclonus was right in that all the tubing and wiring attached to his chassis prevented him from sitting up. However, that didn’t stop him as he now held Tailgate gently by his cheek barely a breath away from himself. 

He paused. Tailgate furrowed his brow in confusion. The servos on his cheek took a moment to brush at the white surface then paused. A question. 

Tailgate let out a single breath before closing the distance. Cyclonus met him gladly and gently, hand reaching up and held the back of the mini-bot’s helm. Tailgate, without thinking, reached up as well and cupped Cyclonus’s cheek as the other pressed a long, warm, gentle kiss to his face plate. 

They stayed like that for a while, in the quiet corner of the medbay with their sparks

Tailgate pulled away first. “We…” How in the world was he so out of breath? “We shouldn’t…”

Cyclonus frowned. “My apologies. I should not have-“

“No, no!” Tailgate quickly interjected. “I’m glad you did! Overjoyed, really.” He added that last part a bit quieter. “It’s just….it would be bad if Ratchet or First Aid walked in.” 

“Oh please~” Both bots froze as an obnoxiously familiar voice gleefully sang from the medical berth neighbored to Cyclonus. “Do continue.” 

Tailgate didn’t-wouldn't- look up, but Cyclonus tilted his head to give Whirl a withering look. The chopper didn’t have nearly as many tubes attached to his hull as Cyclonus did. Seeing as how he was quiet able move onto his side and lean on his elbow as if he were watching one of Rewind’s movies. 

“I think I’ve reserved the right to say that it’s about time.” Whirl said with a gleeful shine to his optic. “Though I wouldn’t go about getting too mushy in public. You never now what perverted mech might get a kick out of watching.” 

And with that, the moment was ruined. 

Almost. 

Cyclonus turned his attention back to Tailgate. “You need to rest. Properly.” 

“Yeah.” Tailgate agreed, he didn’t bother hiding the tiredness in his field. He could feel a similar tiredness come from Cyclonus. “So long as you promise to rest as well.” With a silent nod from the mech, Tailgate leaned forward in a burst of courage and pressed his helm to Cyclonus’s. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” He said.

“I look forward to then.” Cyclonus replied. He watched as the minibot left his side and kept his optics on the door even after Tailgate left. He waited until he heard the front door to the medical room slide shut before resting his head back on the birth. His spark felt light for the first time in ages as he let out a long and content exvent. 

“You know, I’m starting to think you made up the whole ‘can’t sit up’ thing. Was it so you could see what it was like having marshmallow above you?” 

“Whirl.”

“Yep?”

“Shut up.” 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Things that have not happened in comic that need to happe and I am weak to fluff.


End file.
